Disney's Evil Dream Machine
by Asaka Kiseragi
Summary: Disney has struck again. In the most horrific way possible. Can they be stopped before they turn all angsty characters into Timon and Pumba rip-offs? Probably not, but there are a few idiots out there who are willing to try!
1. Optimistic Dreams anyone?

**Disney's Evil Dream Machine!**

OoOo

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even Zippa-dee-do-dah. Pfft.

Hello. It's me. Ph33r me.

Tsukasa: Get on with it you idiot!! O

... eet. Anyway, I HAVE RETURNED TO THE REALMS OF KINGDOM HEARTS FANFICTION!!! And my writing has improved, IMPROVED I TELL YOU!!

Tsukasa: ::WHACK::

Ahem. Yes. Thank you. Anyway, like I said, I've returned (not that any of you probably remember me...). Where have I been you don't ask? Well...over in the Golden Sun section overwhelming people with Felix/Picard one shots. Yay for Felix/Picard!! Then inspiration hit me. In the form of my friend Emma falling into me at lunchtime. And suddenly, I HAD AN IDEA FOR A HUMOR STORY!!!

Uhhh...Margret is the redheaded unknown; Axel. Margret is a pet name me and my American friends have for him, seeing as we didn't know what to call him before he was officially named...yeah...

So, please sit back, relax, drink some Vanilla Coke, and enjoy this...um...

Could you really call it a story? O.o

OoOo

Tap.

Tap, tap, tappity tap.

Click!

Kerthunk.

"Mr. Jones, another one ready to go!"

"That's _Sir_ to you _lackey_. Send it down tube 52."

"...Tch."

OoOo

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, spreading its joyfully warm rays across the brightly coloured field of flowers. You know, the insanely bright kind that makes normal people's eyes burn with much pain.

But they were pretty.

The flowers smiled, and stretched to reach the life-giving rays of the sun, whilst swaying prettily in the breeze.

Ansem smiled, and inhaled a deep breath of the sweet smelling country air. Glancing around, he spotted a brightly coloured path at his feet.

Feeling much glee at having discovered this path, he allowed his overflowing curiosity to lead him down the path and past the tall majestic trees lined with bluebirds tweeting a wondrous tune.

"Oh golly, this sure is a swell day!" he sang, grabbing a randomly appearing basket of rose petals and tossing them all over the shot. A small bluebird – coloured a frighteningly bright shade of blue – fluttered gently onto his shoulder.

"Sure is Ansem!"

"Let us prance!" Ansem cried in joy, as the blue bird hopped on his shoulder in happy spasms of joy,

"Yes! Let's!" With a deep breath, Ansem began to skip down the path singing a cheerful song that filled his heart with light, love and joy. None of that hideous DARKNESS. He smiled brightly as the bluebird twittered an accompaniment in a nauseatingly high voice,

"ZIPPA-DEE-DO-DAH! ZIPPA-DEE-AY! MY, OH, MY WHAT A WONDERFU-"

"ARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

OoOo

Ansem shot up in bed, unconsciously clinging to his stuffed heartless plushie. There was a crash from the adjacent room, and the sound of someone swearing rather uniquely.

"KFJIAUFGASFTASYING TABLE!!!!!!"

There was another crash, a triumphant laugh, and Margret burst into the room – still gripping a severed table leg in one hand.

"'Sup Ansem? I heard you scream like a girl."

Ansem didn't say anything. He just sat there and trembled.

"Another dream, huh?"

Tremble. Tremble.

"..."

Tremble.

"Oh for the love of...ANSEM! Stop trembling!!"

Since the completion of Kingdom Hearts, Ansem had found himself stuck in between games. Caught in 'limbo'.

Limbo had turned out to be Hollow Bastion.

Luckily, (or unluckily) for Ansem, he was not alone. Sora and Riku had also found themselves trapped in this 'Limbo' and later on into the wait a new character from Kingdom Hearts 2 had been tossed in – it was rumoured he caused quite a confusion involving some props, a heartless, and a tube of Smarties. It was this 'confusion' that had led to the unanimous decision that the Unknown should be banned from the 'set' until he was needed.

This redheaded Unknown had appeared one afternoon, with no name, and no idea what in the name of Sora's abnormally large shoes was going on. So Ansem had decided to name him Margret.

It was just something he had to do.

Now, most people would think Ansem would be in his element at Hollow Bastion. It was creepy, dark, and had plenty of places for plotting in.

Most people would be wrong.

Disney had taken over Hollow Bastion, using it as a place to store the numerous plot holes it was faced with, and – apparently – to store it's interior decorator.

And as the sun rose in the distance, Hollow Bastion glowed a rather shocking colour of pastel pink.

And another scream echoed through its hallways.

OoOo

"Mr. Strife...we have a proposition for you."

Cloud blinked, raising a blond eyebrow as he tried to make out the shape of the man addressing him. So far he could see the silhouette of a desk, and a tall man seated behind it. It was all quite dramatic – what with the dark light from the window giving the man an almost evil glow.

"...Could you come out of the shadows?" he asked, squinting in the direction of the voice, "I can't see where the heck you are."

"**HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO INFLICT A SINSITER AURA IF I AM STANDING IN THE SUNLIGHT!!!!!**" the voice roared. Cloud yelped, and dived behind his Buster Sword, before peering cautiously around its side.

Two days ago a man known only as 'Mr. Jones' had summoned him to Disney H.Q. This had not struck him as suspicious at all. One, because it was Disney summoning him. The same people who made _Bambi_ for cries sakes. Two, he hadn't seen the letter he'd received burst into flames with a demonic cackle after he'd finished reading it and handed it to Red XIII (although he _did_ wonder why the beast had sudden gained scorch marks on his coat). And three, Cloud Strife was – to put it bluntly – a First Class Idiot.

So far in his 21 years of life (which, in some peoples opinion, was 21 years too many) he'd told George Bush and Tony Blair that a madman in Iraq could set off weapons of mass destruction in less than 45 minutes, actually voted for George Bush and Tony Blair in the American and British elections (year 2000), and had caused over seven hurricanes to hit America (one even when the authoress of this story was holidaying in Pennsylvania.). Oh. And he'd caused an unfortunate accident with pollen at a Hay Fever convention.

Yes. Quite a few people had the name 'Cloud Strife' at the top of their hit list.

The-man-in-the-shadows sighed, and wondered what on earth had possessed him to consider hiring this...this..._moron_. But, as logic clearly dictates, those of greater mind power and less brute force, always hire those with lower mind power and more brute force. Gently massaging his temples with his index fingers, he plastered a fake smile across his face. (Not that Cloud would be able to see it...)

"Mr. Strife..." he began again, "Like I said before, we have summoned you here with a proposition." The silhouette stood and turned away from the spiky haired idiot on the other side of his desk.

"We have reason to believe that our latest plans could be in jeopardy. Four people – maybe more - will soon be arriving with intent to destroy our latest creation."

Cloud blinked,

"How do you know that?"

"We just do."

"Oh..."

Sighing, the-man-in-the-shadows turned back to face Cloud,

"_Anyway_, we called upon you to..._assist_ us in, shall we say, deterring these four from destroying that which we have worked so hard to achieve..."

"Pardon?"

The-man-in-the-shadows twitched.

"We want you to guard the H.Q and beat the tar out of anyone suspicious."

"Ahhh..."

"Well? Do you accept?"

"...Accept what?"

A dull, yet loud thudding sound began as the man repeatedly smashed his head into the dark wooden surface of his desk. Cloud watched this with slight amusement,

"Uhh...Sir? You're gonna hurt yourself doing that..."

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

"...Sir?"

Smack.

Smack.

"..."

Cloud shrugged,

"Uh...I accept?"

"Good." The smacking stopped. "You shall report to me again in two days time, where I will give you your objectives. Oh..." the man reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a few sheaves of paper,

"This arrived for you. Apparently Mr. Valentine wants his claw and cape back."

Puzzled, Cloud took the letter and scanned it quickly, before wincing.

Vincent had filed a lawsuit.

OoOo

"THE BRITISH ARE COMING! THE BRITISH ARE COMING! THE BRITISH ARE-"

"FOR GODS SAKE ANSEM, THE BRITISH ARE _NOT_ COMING!!!"

There was a thud, the sound of a scuffle, and the door to Riku's room burst opened as a silver haired Hispanic, and a pale skinned redhead tumbled inside.

Riku himself was sat up in bed, shaking slightly, his hands gripping his flowery bed sheets in the death grip of DOOM.

Sora, who was perched on the end of the bed looking slightly worried, was immensely glad that it wasn't his hand in said death grip.

"Um. Margret?" Sora began, deciding to address the less...violent of the two adult, "Riku had an-"

"Optimistic dream?" Margret finished.

Sora nodded,

"Yeah, I thought as much. He screamed in exactly the same way Ansem did."

Riku snapped out of his daze, grinning evilly,

"Ansem screams like a girl?"

"Yeah, well, so do you!" the Hispanic snapped in his defence.

"...Oh..."

Ignoring the two silver haired males, Margret turned to the small brunet sat on the bed.

"Any idea what could be causing these dreams? It only seems to be affecting Ansem and Riku."

Sora shrugged. These dreams were a complete and utter mystery. All that was known about them was they were frighteningly optimistic.

"No idea who could be behind them?"

Again, Sora shook his head. Margret sighed, and absentmindedly stared at the small plot hole that had just drifted into the room.

Plot holes were strange...things. It was unsure as to whether or not they were living. Each differed in appearance, some were completely black, and others looked like they'd had a bad accident in an Art room. They came and went as they pleased, and could either be extremely useful or extremely useless.

This plot hole, however, was going to be very helpful.

It made a funny coughing sound, before spitting out a CD. The CD ricocheted off the back of Ansem's head ("OW!! BLOODY PLOT HOLES!!!") and landed in Sora's outstretched hand.

The brunet KeyBlade master blinked at the CD. It was a Disney soundtrack.

"Guys. Who do we know that has too much optimism to keep in one place, and hates anything dark or scary?"

...

"**DISNEY!!!**"

OoOo

A small copper and blonde haired girl sniffed slightly, and leant back in her chair – humming the song '1985' by Bowling for Soup as she watched the little drama unfolding on the magic screen in front of her.

Five other girls occupied this room. Each sat under a little label that either read 'Pie', 'Oro', 'Fwee', 'Mew', or 'Cheese'. The copper haired girl sat under a label that read 'Nacho'. These six girls made up the fabled Polygon of Doom, known for provoking great (yet amusing) pain upon their favourite Kingdom Hearts characters. The one known as Cheese scuttled over to Nacho, sipping a glass of the glorious substance known as Vanilla Coke.

"What's up?" she asked. Nacho mumbled something that sounded like 'the ceiling' before sighing,

"There are problems in Hollow Bastion..." she said simply. Fwee blinked,

"What kind of problems?" she called over from her computer.

"Problem problems," Nacho said, "Disney have struck once again with vengeance." Pie gasped,

"What have they done now?"

"Created a dream machine. It's feeding Ansem, Margret and Riku optimistic dreams..."

A collective shriek of horror flew through the room, the shriek cackled, and carried itself out the door and into a randomly appearing wall named Bob. Cheese sprayed Vanilla Coke all over Pie, who pranced around saying she'd been blessed until Oro and Mew both smacked her.

"What about Sora?" Oro asked, cackling down at Pie who kicked her on the shin. Nacho shrugged,

"Sora isn't angsty, is he? He's not affected."

Mew twitched,

"That's it. Disney has gone TOO FAR!!! ANSEM, MARGRET AND RIKU MUST BE ABLE TO ANGST!!!" she cried, earning a collective cheer.

"We must do something!" Pie yelled, standing up. Cheese nodded,

"OKAY! P.O.D! STAND TO ATTENION! NOW! FRONT 'N' CENTER!!"

There was a scuffle as the members of the P.O.D ran into a rather wavy line.

"Okay!" Cheese barked, "Nacho, you're in charge of defensive weaponry, Pie, you get tazer guns, Mew, you get Mr. Ton-Ton – he will be a useful piece of ammo in this mission, Fwee, you get liberal amounts of silly string, and Oro...uh...you get provisions!"

"What about you?" Mew called over the mad scuttling as the others got the required items.

"...I must prepare plans," Cheese said solemnly...before realising she had the hiccoughs, "I – HIC - will not – HIC - stand by and – HIC – and let this – HIC – happen!"

"DISNEY SHALL – HIC – FEEL OUR WRATH! – HIC –!!!"


	2. DODM

Disney's Evil Dream Machine 

Aloha! And welcome to Chapter Two!!

That is...if there are any of you still lurking around. I probably scared y'all off with the crapness of Chapter One. Kweh.

Uhhh...this chapter will feature FFX-2 characters. Probably best to warn you, 'cause it could spoil the end to FFX-2, and certain events in FFX-2. So, yeah.

...This story does have a plot you'll be happy to know.

Disclaimer: ...I own...nothing. Darn.

(3...2...1...STORY BEGIN!!)

Shuyin was bored. Being dead left you with very little choice as of what to do. He missed Vegnagun. He missed the Zanarkand Ruins. And he so totally missed that hot guy he possessed to get to Veg-ahem. Yes. Shuyin was bored. ...and currently sporting a few broken bones from where those three scantily clad women had 'persuaded' him to return to the Farplane and live in 'peace'.

He could now officially tell you that peace sucked.

Lenne wasn't being much help either. Overjoyed at the fact she finally had her own 'body' and didn't have to share with a 19 year old teeny bopp-urr, high summoner...yeah...she'd taken to doing **_EXTREME_** sports.

These usually involved some form of throwing herself off the top of a Farplane cliff, then being amazed when she discovered she never gained any injuries, nor did she ever die. Shuyin had tried to explain that the fact she was already dead might have something to do with this, but had only gained a burst eardrum and a kick in the groin.

Apparently being dead didn't stop you getting PMS.

Sighing, the non-tanned Tidus-look-alike decided to ignore the no-smoking signs that littered the Farplane like some sort of tacky wallpaper and their rather..._unpleasant _promises as to what would happen if someone ignored the rules (just like he was doing), and promptly lit up a cigarette, watching in obvious amusement as a former guardian sporting a red coat and sunglasses ran past screaming like a girl.

Auron was being chased by pyreflies.

Now, this probably sounds like the most non-lethal thing that could ever happen. But you, my dear clueless little friend, are sadly mistaken. You see, the pyreflies were bad enough beforehand. They'd show up when someone entered the Farplane to see a dead loved-one (or in some cases, to mock a fallen enemy), and would float around the spirit's apparition, thus causing the mourner (or mocker) to believe the pyreflies were the cause of the apparition.

In reality, the little buggers flew around the spirits and molested them at any given opportunity.

But they'd gotten worse. Even since Chappu's little experiment with tea bags, superglue and liberal amounts of Hydrochloric acid (...yay Chemistry?) they'd acquired a taste for a human 'flesh'. Or spirit 'flesh'. Whatever. The pyreflies were now cannibals.

Yes. The afterlife was _seriously_ screwed.

And it was about to get worse.

OoOo

Tap.

Tap, tap.

Tappity tap.

CLICK!

Whirrrr...

Kerthunk.

"Sir! Another one for the storage!!"

Tap.

Tap, tap.

Error, error. Out of Optimism. Refill cartridge. Error, error.

The male sighed, and ran a hand through his spiked blonde fringe, before swinging himself under the giant mechanic contraption.

_Tch. This..._he thought bitterly, ..._has gotta be the WORSE job ever. _

Grimacing as a splatter of neon coloured oil dribbled out of the – for lack of a better word – computer he reached inside the mass of wires and pulled out a small silvery/gold box.

Wriggling out from under the machine, he stood up, brushed down his jeans, and wiped the splatters of neon oil from the distinctive tattoo on his left cheek before glaring at the small box. Turning to a shelf on his left, he pulled out a copy of 'Bambi' and waved it tantalizingly in front of it. The box glowed slightly, before opening its lid to ridiculous proportions and snapping up the video. Yelping, the male wrenched his hand back just in time to avoid losing it.

He made a vulgar gesture at the box – which simply burped - before wriggling under the machine again to replace it.

Finally, he dragged himself out from under the machine for what would probably _not_ be the last time today, and began typing on the keyboard in front of a unnecessarily large monitor.

Cartridge replaced. Optimism at 100. run programme D.O.D.M 

He hit enter.

_Configuring data._

(a little Mickey Mouse timer had appeared on the screen.)

(the man clucked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance and folded his arms, tapping his index finger against his forearm.)

_Data configured. Optimism refilled. Disney's Optimistic Dream Machine (D.O.D.M) must be restarted before normal operations can resume._

The man stared at the last message in horror, before staring up at the rather complex mass of buttons needed to shut down and restart the gigantic machine.

..._I hate my job._

OoOo

Riku stared at the ceiling of his room.

Three weeks, three days and 22 hours had been the last time he'd had a decent night's sleep. He, unlike Margret, had kept a tally.

He'd never trusted Disney. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that, but he honestly wouldn't have thought they'd be so..._evil_ as to actually try and manipulate him by infecting his dreams.

_But then again..._he thought, his eyes straying around the pastel blue room, _If they could turn somewhere as dark and creepy as Hollow Bastion into a rip off of a toddler's play room, I guess I should've seen this coming._

Cursing his stupidity, the silver haired teen decided to go and see if Margret and Ansem had finished their meeting.

Being the 'responsible adults' of the group, the Hispanic, and the redhead had decided to put forth some sort of plan of action against Disney.

The meeting had begun roughly three hours ago. Sora and Riku had managed to duck the bullet of having to stay and help with the plans by saying they'd search the castle for any suspicious signs of optimism.

In their defence, the duo _had_ actual begun a search. But pretty soon after they'd started Sora's short attention span had gripped him with vengeance and he'd trotted off somewhere, and Riku had found himself threatening the lifts with death if they did not stop confusing him.

After realising he was insulting inanimate objects, Riku had decided he had a headache, and had returned to his hideously coloured room.

Briefly, it crossed his mind that maybe he should seek out the brunet Keyblade master, before he did anything _too_ stupid. But he shrugged it off. Sora was a responsible teen. He could definitely take care of himself. It's not like he'd be stupid enough to do something like attempting to sky dive off the top of the castle without a parachute.

Riku promptly turned on his heel and began searching for the brunet.

OoOo

Ansem nodded vaguely, doodling on a sheet of paper with the pen Margret had given him at the beginning of the meeting. He wasn't paying any attention to the Unknown, instead he found himself fascinated by the fact that his pen looked almost _exactly_ like a pregnancy test.

"Ansem, are you even listening to me?"

Ansem jumped slightly, and the heartless he'd been doodling gained a rather interesting moustache.

"Yes!"

"...Then what did I just say?"

"Uhh..." Ansem fidgeted in his chair nervously, "Umm...that...uh...maybe Disney is using some sort of machine to feed us optimistic dreams?" he stuttered nervously. Damn his stupid, stupid brain.

Margret blinked.

"Either you're one lucky guesser, or you really were paying attention..." he muttered, still blinking at Ansem in suspicious confusion. Ansem resisted the urge to grin smugly.

"So..." Margret continued, suspicion evident in his voice, "What do you suggest we do?"

"About what?"

Margret smacked his head onto the desk.

"About our theory. If Disney is using a machine, where would they be keeping it?"

Ansem shrugged,

"Dunno. All I can say is, it's gotta be one giant machine..."

OoOo

IhatemyjobIhatemyjobIhatemyjobIhatemy- 

"Zell!! Are you paying attention or not?"

The blond snapped out of his daze, and grinned sheepishly,

"Y-yeah...I am."

The rather intimidating man raised an eyebrow, before lacing his fingers behind his back and clearing his throat,

"You are aware, that SquareEnix let us..." he paused, searching for the right word, "..._borrow_ you to supervise with our...plans."

Zell resisted the urge to ask whether his creator's actually knew was Disney's 'plans' were.

"And so far...you have been a complete and utter..._failure_." The man smirked in a non-too pleasant way. "So far you have proved that you are completely incompetent, and cannot even assist D.O.D.M in the creation of the optimistic dreams."

He paused, and waved a hand at the giant machine. Currently rather fearful looking engineers, who were desperately trying to get it to work again, surrounded it. The corner of Zell's lips twitched. He knew he was a man of little-to-no patience, which was why instead of restarting the computer like he'd been told to, he'd decided to kick it.

Repeatedly.

Okay, and he _might_ have used 'My Final Heaven' on it. Once.

Or twice.

But, to be honest, the world was better off without D.O.D.M. He'd just decided to play saviour. Again.

However his moment of shining glory had been shattered when he found himself facing Mr. Jones: his current 'Boss' and the man in charge of Disney's latest plot. For a Disney lackey, he was incredibly frightening.

Mr. Jones frowned slightly as he caught the hint of a smirk on the blond's lips,

"So, to save us for anymore...trouble...we've decided to send you on a mission. A mission to collect someone for..." he paused again, "_Experimental_ purposes." He snapped his fingers and a lower minion of Disney scuttled forward and handed Zell an overly official looking letter and a map.

"You are to go to the Farplane and collect the man named Shuyin. He is probably the most angst ridden person our sources can uncover," Mr. Jones finished.

_Then your sources haven't met Squall._ Zell thought bitterly, before a thought stuck him,

"Uh, sir..."

"Yes?"

"...How the hell am I supposed to get to the FARPLANE? I mean...it's in a whole different game!!"

Mr. Jones gave Zell _the look_.

"Zell, this is the internet. You can do anything here," he said curtly, before turning and leaving the room.

Zell pulled a face and aimed a kick at Mr. Jones' retreating back.

When he got hold of Hironobu Sakaguchi, he was gonna dropkick his ass to Final Fantasy 15.

OoOo

...:D?


	3. The Concept of Banana Boats

Disney's Evil Dream Machine 

OoOo

Here we are with chapter three!

I won't bore you with author notes. Apart from the ever present Disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue.

(Annnnd…ACTION!)

Zell had been to, and done many strange things in his life.

He'd been aboard a building when it started flying.

He'd escaped from a supposedly un-escapable prison.

And he'd gone all over the world, before he and his friends had decided to go kamikaze on an all-powerful sorceresses ass.

Yes, it took a lot to shock Zell Dincht.

But this really took the cake. And ate it too.

Staring across the vast wilderness that stretched a heck of a lot further than the puny little stone platform he currently stood on, Zell whistled in awe. Swirling clouds of what appeared to be dust loomed across the serene waterfalls, lakes and meadows, as strange – almost watercolour like – fly things drifted throughout the area. He blinked as he spotted a man in red a coat run across one of the meadows screaming. Following him were roughly a dozen of the strange fly-type creatures.

If this was the afterlife, then Zell wasn't sure he wanted any part of it.

"HELLO? I'M LOOKING FOR A GUY NAMED SHUYIN! IS HE HERE? SHUY-"

"You don't have to yell."

Zell leapt up in the air with a squeak and spun around to see some sort of apparition floating just in the air to his left. He had a bored look on his face, blue eyes, and messy blonde hair that fell into aforementioned eyes – this seemed to annoy him, as he kept blowing it out of his face.

"…You're Shuyin?"

The apparition nodded, and batted a few of the fly creatures away with his hand. Zell scratched the back of his head,

"Well this was easier than I though…" he paused, and gave Shuyin a small smile, "I've been asked to collect you and take you to Disney H.Q. for…something."

There was another pause.

"…So…d'ya wanna come with me or not?"

Shuyin stared at him like he was a couple of buttons short of a cardigan, before sighing – as if he were dealing with the very, very stupid.

"In case you hadn't notice…I'm in the _afterlife_. I am not a solid figure. Therefore I cannot leave," he said slowly. Zell raised an eyebrow.

So maybe this _wasn't_ that easy.

OoOo

"Cheese?"

"Yeah Pie?"

"…Uh. What exactly are they doing?"

The P.O.D sat in front of an insanely large surveillance screen, watching everything that was happening in Hollow Bastion. Kinda like Big Brother, and equally as boring.

Sighing, Mew picked up the small Tonberry plushie – Mr. Ton-Ton – that sat on the floor in front of her and idly began petting its head. She soon stopped this, as the plushie turned around and clamped its mouth over her fingers – gnawing relentlessly.

Ignoring Mew's screams of pain, Cheese sighed and pushed some of the randomly colourful and beeping buttons surrounding the screen,

"I think they're trying to find a way out of Hollow Bastion?"

Fwee looked up from where she was spraying Nacho with silly string and blinked questioningly,

"…Weren't the ways-to-other-worlds sealed?"

Cheese nodded,

"That's why they can't leave. I think they have to find another way…"

Nacho wiped some pieces of a silly string from her eyes and sighed,

"I don't know, game characters nowadays. They have to be spoon-fed…" she muttered tartly, before closing her eyes, drawing on the fearsome and almighty powers of authordom. She would summon the most amazing mode of transport…something stylish, yet fast, sleek and wondrous. No living creature would match its speed.

The computer monitor flickered and Riku's voice – sounding rather disbelieving – echoed over the sound system.

"…Is that a Banana boat?"

OoOo

Banana Boats are rather interesting things. It is unknown whether or not they are actually related to bananas, or whether they are simply just a concoction of rubber and helium. However, one good piece of advice is used when dealing with such objects:

_Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear._

…

No…wait…wrong proverb…

_Never judge a book by its cover._

That's better. Although the first proverb is rather handy too…

Anyway. Since Gummi Ships became completely and utterly _useless_ – not that they were particularly useful beforehand, as Sora had discovered after drinking five sodas and _then_ being told by Donald that Gummi Ships did not come equipped with bathrooms… - people had taken to finding other ways of travelling between worlds. Some had tried walking – and (unfortunately) had asphyxiated in the wholly endless vacuum of space that lay in between planets. Some had attempted to rebuild the Gummi Ships so they could fly between the barriers – however an unfortunate side effect of their tampering caused the Gummi Ships to explode shortly after breaking a barrier, and thus caused the pilots to asphyxiate in endless space just like those who attempted walking.

And some simply just gave up, and sat around on sofas at home smoking like chimneys and cursing at small, pinkish white coloured creatures with giant pom-poms sticking out of their foreheads.

You see the problem was people had _thought_ too much about overcoming the problems of planet hopping. They had attempted many difficult mathematical equations, and attempted experiments (many of which would've made Einstein proud). Sadly, these experiments all failed (which would've made Einstein sad). On the more positive side, people now had quite a clear idea of what happened when someone asphyxiated. Or is that another minus side? Either way, people had taking the ideas, added helium, and completely blown them out of proportion. You see, the simplest way to travel through space was not in a form of airship, or walking. It was simply by using _the most unlikely idea ever_. Unfortunately, no one knew what this 'unlikely idea was'. Apart from six people. A group known as the P.O.D.

Good thing they were fans of Riku, Sora, Ansem and Margret. Otherwise they would be doomed to dream of sunshine, flowers and bluebirds for evermore.

OoOo

_Ring, ring. Ring, ring._

_Click._

"_Hello?"_

"Mr. Jones?"

"…_What is it **now** Zell, you incompetent, useless, worthless-"_

"When you're quite finished insulting me, sir, I'd like to tell you we have a problem."

"_What **kind **of __problem? Have you found Shuyin?"_

"Yes, but-"

"_Then what could **possibly **__be wrong? You've found the experi-ahem, man. Just bring him back to H.Q.!"_

"That's the problem."

"…"

"Shuyin is dead, sir."

"…_Dead!"_

"Yeah, tell him Shuyin."

"**I can definitely assure you, I am dead."**

"_Then how is he talking to me?"_

"He's an apparition. I can talk to him, he can talk to me, but he can't leave."

"…_How long has he been dead?"_

"Roughly 1,000 years."

Tapping his foot against the loose dirt of the Farplane platform, Zell awaited orders from his _'Boss'_.

"…_Hmm."_

Zell covered the receiver with his hand and shot Shuyin an apologetic look,

"Sorry, this could take a while…"

"Don't worry," Shuyin drawled. He sat cross-legged, floating in the air before Zell with his head resting in his hands, "I've had 1,000 years to practice my patience skills."

Zell raised an eyebrow. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of Shuyin. His persona reminded him a little too much of Seifer, yet he had a very amusing sense of sarcastic humour. Sighing, the blond former-martial-artist-now-D.O.D.M's-'babysitter' turned his attention back to his cell phone.

"_How did you get to the Farplane, Zell?"_

"I asked the Internet to help me."

"…_Then ask the Internet to give Shuyin a body!"_

"Is it really gonna be that simple?"

"…_Who knows. Just bring the damn experiment back to the H.Q."_

_Click._

"…Experiment?"

Zell shrugged,

"I know about as much as you do. Anyway," he paused, before spreading his arms wide to add to the drama and took a deep breath,

"Oh great and powerful Internet, please, give Shuyin a solid form!" he paused, and then, "Preferably one identical to his apparition!"

There was a loud _whoosh_ as wind began to blow fiercely around the Farplane. Spirals of cheap looking glitter swirled down from the skies, and began forming into the shape of a body.

"If I end up looking like a glittery Powerpuff girl, I am gonna _hurt_ you." Shuyin snapped, staring at the forming body in slight fear. Zell gulped.

There was a puff of foul smelling blue smoke, and another _whoosh_ing sound as the apparition of Shuyin was sucked into the body and then-

"Wow. It actually worked."

Shuyin blinked, and flexed his fingers as if to double-check that he really had a body. After experimenting with turning his (definitely solid) hand into a fist, he grinned satisfied.

Zell, on the other hand, looked rather amazed,

I wonder if I asked for Mr. Jones to be smited… 

"Hey…Zell?"

Zell snapped out of his daze and turned to blinked at Shuyin.

"Yeah?"

"Well…can I test my new body out on you?" he asked, waving his fist around excitedly.

"…_DOING WHAT!" _Zell paled. Shuyin rolled his eyes,

"By hitting you, what else?"

…

…

"Nice try dude."

"Aw, damn."

OoOo

"**DIE TRESPASSER!" **

The poor squirrel never stood a chance.

Looking rather pleased with himself, Cloud flexed his fingers and congratulated himself on another successful Omnislash. He flicked a few stray locks of spiky blond hair and looked at the small pile of squirrel carnage littering the floor. Wrinkling his nose, he called upon the power of fire and burnt the pieces into charred ash.

Much better.

Sighing, Cloud Strife (four times winner of the 'World's Biggest Idiot' award) sat down cross-legged on the floor and awaited his next victi-uh…the next trespasser.

OoOo

_The authoress would like to state that no squirrels were harmed in the making of this chapter. Thank you._


End file.
